Love's Eternal Flame
by MrsIanBale
Summary: The flame between Coulson and May has had a cycle of life and death but this time, they can only truly turn to each other to save the life of the daughter they were told had died in her sleep. And as last resort, they turn to him who has the same flame in his heart for their daughter Grant Ward has a burning flame in his heart for Skye, he just didn't expect them to be so physical
1. Number One Fan

The knock on the wide wooden doors echoed in the big main room of the Social Science department. The old professor looked down over his glasses from his position up in the book case ladder, and called for the visitor once his feet were on the floor again. A big forehead with the in fashion combover confidently peaked through, as if assuring that it was he who had been called.

"Phil Coulson, come in," the chairman skimmed his hands over his suit, and walked ahead of the student, sitting at his chair in front of the big window, which in-coincidently had the best view of the university statue.

23 year old Phil Coulson, in his white shirt, black vest outfit walked straight backed towards the desk in front of the big window on the other side of the room. As he casually smiled and looked about the room, he stopped, starring at a plaque-d round disk with letters in different assortments written around the edges. Phil detoured towards the object, chuckling as he figured out what it was. Looking over his shoulder, he noticed the chairman staring at him, with his chin on one fist and his glasses held in the other hand.

"May I?" Coulson asked.

"If you know what it is," the professor motioned with his glasses before putting them back on, returning to the file in his hand.

"How could I not? It's a cipher disk from the civil war. The Union cipher disk. Yellow heavy card stock. The A.J.M, named after General Albert Meyer."

"I truly admire your passion for details of history, Mr. Coulson. It is so rare to come around these days."

"I take it that's why I'm here?"

"Yes, Mr. Coulson. There are some people, that recognize that passion of yours, and, let's just say, they have their own opinions about it. Now, can you have a seat?"

"Oh, right," the student pulled himself from the historical artifact, looking back at it one more time before sitting across from the professor.

"Great. Let me just get the files in order here. Ah, here they are." While professor Lepek was collecting the documents, Phil could hear the faint music of the orchestra coming through the floor. After binding the papers in a clip, the chairman began to list ALL of Phil Coulson's achievements, and told him that a government organization had taken notice of his talents, while Phil focused in on the cello solo, which seemed to properly supplement the situation he found himself in.

"Phil, how much do you know of the WWII organization known as the Stra-"

"The Strategic Scientific Reserve? I'm assuming that's what you were going to say."

"Ah ye-"

"It was formed in 1940 under the orders of Franklin Roosevelt, to counter the heavy war science division of Hitler's army. The first Commanding Officer was Chester Phillips, and the CEO of Stark Industries was their lead weapons scientist. And when their goal was to create the best army in history, well" Phil excitedly shrugged his shoulders, "every army starts with one man."

"Prec-"

"Captain America, to be precise. I-I am a big fan."

Professor Lepek chuckled at the faint redness spreading across the student's face.

"Amazing, Mr, Coulson." the professor shook his pointed index finger at the student across. "But I do have to admit, a little annoying."

"Sorry, sir." he replied, clasping his hands on his legs without breaking eye contact with the chairman.

"Now, as you said, the SSR was very science based, which is true. But, after the Allies won the war, the project was expanded, to what specifically s _ome_ people in the world know as the Strategic Hazard Intervention Espionage Logistics Directorate."

Coulson laughed. "S.H.I.E.L.D."

"And last week, Phil Coulson," the chairman leaned forward and took off his glasses,"S.H.I.E.L.D has reached out to the university, with the goal to recruit you into their agency. Now, I know this is sudden, and may probably be hard-"

"Are you kidding me?! S.H.I.E.L.D, the people who made Captain America, want to recruit me! You don't know how much this means to me. Boy, 12 year old me would have been so proud, hell 23 year old me is so proud! Thank you, so much, sir." Phil toned down his excitement and his smile settled as realization hit him. "You did say yes, didn't you."

"Well, they want you. YOU should reply to them. Here," Professor Lepek handed Phil a thick black envelope, with a silver eagle emblemed in the center.

The astounded student blankly stared at the parcel he had been given.

"This-this is such an amazing opportunity."

"I think you should go to your dorm and pack your things, Mr. Coulson. I believe you will be having to report soon."

Coulson jumped up from his seat, not clumsily enough to drop his recruitment packet, and walked back towards the door. Phil was stoked to go back and start packing, but stopped one more time at the cipher disk.

"Hey, professor. Do you think Captain America would have been Union or the Confederate? I think he would have been with the Union, after all, he is the biggest symbol of freedom, he would NEVER have stood for the slavery of Af-"

"Good evening, Mr. Coulson. I understand you have a very busy day ahead of you," professor Lepek ordered the student over the stack of student papers in his hands. Phil looked at the stack in his own hand, and awkwardly made his way out of the door.

The chairman took off his glasses and shook his head, chuckling as he reached for a lower drawer on his desk. Looking at the card he took out, he blew away the dust and put it in its envelope,

"Well then, Captain America, I think you might do better with your biggest fan that at the bottom of a drawer."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

 **ugh so stupid, but I wanted to get this story out. The idea came to me last week so it is still in development, as in I haven't even drafted properly yet. So, I will update the chapter again too. If the description was too confusing let me know.**

 **thankyou for reading.**


	2. The New Generation

"State your full name, please."

"Philip John Coulson."

"S.H.I.E.L.D is a hidden, high risk agency of espionage. Why do you want to work for S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"I have knowledge I know an every day human shouldn't know. I know that us humans aren't the only thing on this planet. And that there are people with worse intentions than Hitler. I want to use my knowledge to protect the people that don't know-which would be the 90% of the human population. I want to put myself first in the line to find out who's an ally or who's a foe."

"Your answer to the next question will not leave this room and will be recorded in your file that can only be accessible by the correct authorization when of absolute necessity. In the case that you or your identity become compromised, I need of you a safe word, something only you-the real Philip John Coulson- would know of you."

"Lola."

"And Lola is..."

"My red 1962 Chevrolet Corvette."

"Ok, Phil Coulson. You are done with orientation. Next up, go out the door, walk 10 feet to the left, enter the first door on your right and you should be in the great hall. You will receive your identification card and the name of you Supervising Officer. Good day."

Coulson got off the metal chair, and fixing his tie, walked out the door and to the great hall. _Academy of Operations._ The hall was filled with people, half standing in lines to get their cards, the other huddled in groups, most chatting up what was written on the small white cards in their hands.

Next! By the time he was called up, Coulson had taken in most of the information he deemed important about the people and the layout of the building they were in. Coulson was noting in his head the number of possible exits up from the windows when he turned to look at the guy at the table.

"Name please," the short man in the suit asked.

"Uhhh, weren't you just in the room with the-the questioning and the-" Coulson asked confused, not believing his eyes.

"Oh! You had orientation with my brother. He's Jayden. I'm Kayden. What is _your_ name? You know, I gotta give you your identification card. It's very important that you have an i.d. card. I think they're so cool!"

 _yes, yes it is what you think it is._

"My name's Phil Coulson."

"Good, good. B.C, C.C, E.C, L.C, O.C, P-P there it is. Phil Coulson, here's your identification card. Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D. Good day."

"You forgot to tell me who my S.O. is."

"Excuse me?"

"My S.O.?"

"Oh, my apologies. So many cards here you kn-Oh My GOD!"

"What?" Coulson asked leaning in."

"You're not gonna believe this! _"_

 _"_ Is he that bad?"

"You must be that good?"

"I'm guessing you got Nick Furry too huh?" Coulson turned to the new voice that had butted in.

"My card guy had the same reaction. John Garret." He extended a hand which Coulson strongly shook.

"Phil Coulson. Who's Nick Fury?" Coulson took his card from Kayden and walked off next to Garrett.

"Top of the graduating class, two years ago. He was supposed to have been a senior _this_ year. Already made his way to HQ. He's that good, meaning you and I have to have been really good to have him."

"You guys got Fury?"

"And you are?" Garrett asked with a cocked brow.

"Jasper Sitwell. This is Felix Blake."

"Fury huh? I would guess he'd be the first to go rogue, break from S.H.I.E.L.D, with his off the book methods. Very anti-regime-"

"You got something to say, _Mr._ Blake?" the appearance of a tall African American, with magnanimous authority glowing off him, turned Blake's scorn into a frown.

"S.H.I.E.L.D is not my profession. It is my life, it is my style. And when I think that the book rules are stupid-ass and I can find a better way that does not require much collateral, I elect to ignore the book rule. When you find yourself in a situation, without your handy-dandy book in your damn hands-"

"Fury, are you picking on my NAT*s?" Agent Pierce, complete with the side combed yellow hair in a silver suit walked up behind Blake and Sitwell.

"How lovely it is that they're yours, now my team has some personal competition..."

As Nick Fury established his enmity with Alexander Pierce, Garrett noticed a girl amongst them and pointed her out to Coulson as she walked closer.

"Man, everywhere I go, there gotta be girls! Can't have enough of me."

"NAT Garrett." Fury was about to reprimand Garrett for his harassing comment when he was beaten to it by the girl.

"Listen, I have serious daddy issues, which I love to take out on other men. And if you'd seen my work in Madripoor, you'd want to have less than enough of me."

"You're Maria Hill!" Coulson finally spoke. "You worked there with the armed forces against the-um tiger-human* war time, bad guy."

"Yup."

"I look forward to working with you. I'm Phil Coulson."

"See you around, Coulson."

Nick Fury laughed, then nudged Garrett in the stomach with his elbow.

"How many of your girls actually stick to you Garrett? My man Coulson, I'm starting to like you. You know stuff."

"Thank you, sir."

Fury nudged Garrett again, "sir, I like that too." then walked ahead with Coulson as Garrett walked behind, fixing his duffle bag on his back.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Yes, Jayden and Kayden are Koenig ancestors

NAT stands for new agent trainee

I researched Mariah Hill, her dad hated her for being born; she enlisted with the U.S. armed forces, and did field work with them in Madripoor. the most I found about the city was that it was somehow linked with Wolverine, soo the bad guy.

Next up, girls girls girls. Some girls are definitely better than boys.


	3. You Can Accomplish Anything

"...One man can accomplish anything, when he realizes he's a part of something bigger. Get a _team_ of people who  share that conviction, you can change the world."

Nick Fury ended the day's training with his later to be famous "one man" speech, and sent the boys Coulson and Garret to the parring gym with homework. Coulson had listened staring bright eyed at Fury, and Garret was busy playing the newly learned fighting techniques in his mind. Coulson had to snap Garret out of his day dreaming to take him to the gym, and John explained to Phil the moves he was going to do and how. As they were discussing technique, they became momentarily oblivious to their surroundings, and had to quickly split apart to allow a couple of NATs carrying one very wounded agent between them. Coulson and Garret stared at the passing group and then at each other, and hurried their pace to the gym.

In the gym, there were quite a few people already parring on all the mats, so Coulson and Garret had to wait on the bench. They watched as Jasper Sitwell lost his match to a female agent with pink hair, and the both walked over to the bench to refresh. Felix Blake had joined and was helping Garret tease Sitwell, but this time it was Coulson lost in his own world. He was glued to the one mat in all the gym that only had one person on it. A woman of Asian descent was hard at work by herself with a dummy, but while every other sparring person's moves and techniques were brash and quick, hers were concentrated, slow, peaceful but deadly.

Maria Hill came up next to Coulson and followed his line of sight to the other woman.

"And you thought _I_ wasimpressive? Meet Melinda May, top of her class in aeronautics*, multi-black belt martial artist, aand champion ice skater," Hill introduced May as she stood next to the bench with her hands crossed.

"I'll take a shot and say she sent the guy out limping and toothless, you know the one we saw on our way in." Garret shook his head, impressed by Melinda May. Hill gave him an affirming nod.

"Wow! Ice skater huh? Whatever made her into a martial artist?" Coulson asked Hill.

"I heard the ice was too hard," a new female voice joined in as the lady with the pink hair finally spoke.

"Victoria Hand," she introduced herself, getting a round of introductions from everyone, and she was fascinated by Phil.

"You're Phil Coulson? Fury's NAT."

"Why, you don't like him?"

"Don't like him, I wanted him as _my_ S.O.! I have _always_ been the top logistician and strategist. I've been the captain of all of my scholastic bowls in college and high school. And _I_ didn't get Fury," Hand slumped on the bench next to Sitwell.

"Maybe it's your criticism of his approaches, and your ideologies didn't match with his," Garrett reminded her of her widely known criticism of Fury and offered Coulson a hand as he stood up to go on the mats. Coulson took it and pulled himself up just as Hand let out a scoff.

"But what makes _you_ so special?"

"He's the underdog," they all turned and stood up as Melinda May walked up behind them, her mat rolled under her arm.

"Don't ever underestimate the underdog, Hand. Who knows, maybe _he_ could turn into a Captain America one day." Melinda smiled at Phil and walked out the gym, leaving Phil starstruck in her wake. She hadn't even seen him at work, and already she thought he'd be great, great enough to compare him to Captain America.

Garret stood up as a mat cleared and stared at the door and back at Coulson, then slapped his partner on the back and broke him out of his trance.

"Come on, _lover boy_. If _I_ don't have a shot with her, _you're_ way below the league. Move, lets go on the mat. Beat me, and you _May_ have a chance with her."

Coulson suppressed a blush and play punched at his partner as they finally got their shot on the mat. _

After dinner, Garret had dragged Coulson back to the gym, and the two were the only person in the gym at night, practicing their fighting. They had set up an area of the big room as a war zone, using mats and gym tools as obstacles and blindspots, and staging the dummies as the opponent. They made a map of their scenario together, but were at odds at how to play it out. While Garret wanted to go out fighting, Coulson wanted to make a strategy and gave the dummies extra characterization that would be in a real situation. As the two argued, the lights turned back on and Fury ordered them to stand at attention. He commended their battlefield and map, also pointing out the goods and the bad of each of their tactics. While he criticized them both, Fury was much harder on Garret, which the NAT noticed. Fury lead them back to their dorm and the two bickered behind him.

"You just _gotta_ be teacher's pet, don't you?" Garret teased.

"Careful, this teacher's pet can put you in a **deathlock**." Coulson defended himself.

Fury went away as they neared the dorm building, and while Garret walked on up with the term stuck in his head, Coulson had stopped at the sliding doors, watching as Melinda May was doing yoga beneath a big tree. Seeing that his partner had gone back and the coast was clear, he stepped through the doors.

With his hands behind his back, Coulson walked up to where May was doing her tai chi, and leaned his back against the tree.

"Hi there, agent May. I'm Phil Coulson, from the gym earlier today? Captain America?"

May stayed silent as she stared at him through her yoga.

"Anyway, I appreciated you standing up for me against Hand today. You don't understand how much I _really_ appreciate you calling me Captain America. I want to thank you, so I'd like it for you to join me for dinner tomorrow night. We're allowed off campus tomorrow and there's a DJ's a few blocks down. I'd love to take you there, well I'll be there whether you would like to come or not, it's my favorite place after all, but I'd rather like to have you accept my invitation."

Coulson gave her an awkward invitation for dinner, and soon realized she hadn't said a word. He pushed off from the tree and straightened up his iron pressed tie.

"I'm sorry, I think I may be bothering you. I'll leave you to think about my invite for dinner tomorrow. Good night."

Coulson mentally kicked himself for bumbling as he walked back, and then actually punched the air once he was inside. May finally stopped and smiled at the naive Coulson, then made a note to keep an open schedule for the next night.


	4. Off

A secret agency like S.H.I.E.L.D rarely ever gave days off. So the fact that they were given the day off meant something big was coming, and it did. The next few months, training turned up a whole 100 degrees, pushing the NATs to the extreme. They were given new SOs, new partners, and new tactics almost every week. After each lesson, the stimulations were more difficult than the last. After the training months, the agents were classified into brain and brawn. Teams were made from people from each academy department; a few technical geniuses, science pros, and field agents, and a commanding officer.

Garett was stationed together with Hand in Lisbon. Coulson was made commander of his team and Hand teased that Coulson's first pick would be agent May, given how close the two had become in the last few months, but Phil was assigned on a retrieval mission to Sausalito, and Melinda was assigned a different team with a mission to China (not because she's Chinese, just that her awesomeness was more suited for THAT team).

One the free day, Coulson hung out with Garett and the boys, and despite the day off, they mostly traded fighting tips and practiced with random partners. Blake was teased for his über seriousness, and Sitwell for his bald head and glasses. Garett's bullheadedness was often pointed out, but Coulson was teased the most. He was joked at for his "over" fondness of Captain America, who Garett and Sitwell didn't seem to be too fond off ( I wonder why ?). But he was most teased about his anticipation for having Agent May join him at dinner. To the surprise of all, especially Coulson, she _had_ shown up at the dinner.

Since their "date", May and Coulson hung out a lot. She would pick his side in any argument, and, well, no one wanted an enemy out of Melinda May. May also gave Coulson one on one lessons, which Garett picked him about, teasing that their sessions were each less professional than the last one had been.

Garett was, evidently, in his own way, jealous of Melinda May. In the time he had known Coulson, regardless of the bullying, they'd become best friends. It bothered John that Melinda was starting to know Phil better than him, a disturbing fact given that the two were roommates.

Soon though, Garett was distracted from his envy when he was partnered with Victoria Hand, preparing for a stationing in Lisbon, popular for its organized crime, and being a hot spot for black market activities. Hand was the brains, making the plans and knowing who to send out where. Garett was, surprise surprise, the lead muscle, who just wanted to, and got to, go in all guns blazing, blowing off heads of bad guys, and whoever got in the way. It was a relief for him, to be able to be on his own without being haggled by Coulson, though they were still best friends. It was an especial freedom to get away from Nick Fury, for both Garett and Agent Hand.

May was packing her bags when her door knocked.

"All packed up for California, Phil?"

Coulson smirked, pleased that she knew it was him without looking back at him.

"Shorts and tees don't take much space," he joked as he grabbed her weapons and put them in their appropriate cases.

"And _you're_ going all the way to China. I'm almost sure it has nothing to do with your heritage."

May scoffed a laugh.

"You can never be too sure with the government!"

"You get to lead your first mission, congratulations!" May said as she zipped her last bag and swung it over her shoulder, heading out.

"Yeah, it's just an exchange and drop off at a coffee shop."

"No DJs?"

"No DJs, sadly."

"Hmm...bring me back souvenirs from California."

"Hǎo yùnqì zài zhōngguó."

"You do your research!" May said, noticing his Chinese good luck.

"What can I say? I do things for people." Coulson smiled back at her.

"Never say that again," A new voice interrupted as they were standing in the doorway.

Maria Hill stood across them, her hair in a bun behind her, her arms crossed over her chest, as usual.

"The planes are ready. _You_ are going to hold up for 15 hours in a plane, Agent May."

"Piloting a big plane should be distraction enough." Melina said as she handed over her bags to another agent in the carrier of the plane.

She walked away from Hill and back towards Coulson.

"Promise you won't die without me?"

"We still have a second date to go out to."

"I'll look forward to it." She kissed his cheek and returned back to the open panel of the plane.

"Don't get sunburned in Sausalito!" she shouted over her shoulders as she disappeared into the jet.

"Don't get swordchopped in China!"

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sorry this chapter was short and so stupid. I have written parts farther ahead, so this is just a filler chapter. Haven't published in a while, so wanted this up now. Will DEFINITELY be edited later.


	5. California Dreaming

5 hours later, Phil Coulson descended the mini airplane in an outfit that could let a blind man know he was a tourist. Dressed in his California themed tee and shorts, Coulson swept on his sunglasses, true government agent style. and was lead to the car by the Californian team.

"You look _very_ prepared to play your part agent Coulson." Agent Grey commented on his outfit.

"This is not going to be a relaxing visit. What have we got so far?"

The other agents filled Coulson on what the situation was, and on their drive to the next drop off, Coulson devised a plan, assigned roles, and the team was ready to execute by the drop off.

Only Coulson got off and switched rides, and the rest of the team covertly followed behind, all the way till Coulson was dropped outside the coffee shop, briefcase in hand.

Phil entered the shop, and in his first glance, he swore he would prefer a place that got his name wrong, over this place. The store made no effort to counter the Californian heat, and flies momentarily flew over the barely there coffee shop items. And the regulars sitting around, definitely looked like they didn't have their morning coffee.

I arrange to meeting with in charge man, like, please Phil spoke in broken Italian.

"We speak English, my friend. But you do not speak Italian." A man who looked like the manager walked up to him from behind the counter.

Phil stepped forward, and removing his shades, announced his intentions.

"I'm here to see Ivo Lancia? Also goes by, "The Roulette"?"

"Ah, but does Roulette want to see you?" The manager splayed his hands, and his employees and "regulars" stood up to greet the customer.

"I'm pretty sure he's gonna want what's in this case," Phil threw a side glance to the case in his hand.

"Let me take a look huh? I'll decide," the man moved forward and reached for the brief, but Coulson swung the case back and held up a wagging finger as everyone else in the shop held up their guns.

"Enh, no." Coulson forcefully said. " **I** wanna see the boss, do you understand? Or is your English worse than you thought?"

"Suit yourself," the manager grinned at Phil and stepped back, letting his men bag Coulson up.

His eyes slowly opened as he felt himself being dragged by two men at either of his side. Through his fuzzy vision, he could see his surroundings: narrow backstreets with quick turns, laden with carts and trucks and garbage cans. The men in front of him passworded their way into a building, and the other guards checked him up before letting him in. His consciousness was fully restored by the time he was standing in the audience of the boss, the bent and beaten briefcase sitting center table.

"So, we tried to open this case of yours. But as you can see, we could not. We want you to open it for us now." Roulette explained.

"I could open it and give you what's inside, no problem. But only in exchange for something in your possession."

"Other than your life?" The boss cocked a brow and Phil took a punch or two in the gut.

The S.H.I.E.L.D agent chuckled and spat out blood.

"No deal."

"A man with nothing to lose," Roulette told his men.

"Okay, listen!" Coulson's strength came back and he powerfully spoke, shrugging the men off him. "'Cause I'm only gonna say this once. I've lost a friend for this job, and I don't intend to follow him up. So, you're gonna give me what I want, or you can spill my guts right here and use that case as a dough presser."

Roulette laughed.

"I like your style." His hands motioned for his men to release Coulson from his cuffs.

"Thank you," Coulson smugly said as he rubbed his wrists.

Within the second, Phil had the briefcase snapped open and spun it towards the Italian boss. Roulette got up to reach for it, but Phil pulled it back, earning disapproval from the mob.

"Me first. You recently did a heist on an excavation site. You can keep the gold, I'd like to collect the scrolls. I think this is a big enough room to keep them in."

The boss, who had been relatively calm up to this point, pushed off the table with anger stitched on his face, and went and got a sack from the back of the room. The bag landed with a thud next to the case.

"Yggdrasil." Roulette said, calmly.

"Excuse me?"

"Yggdrasil. The tree of life. You know not what is on these scrolls, yet you put yourself in so much trouble for them."

"My boss tells me they tell of the end of the world."

"He is correct. Now, what tale do the items in your box speak of.

"Technically, death, too." Coulson smugly said and opened the case again. "A _semi_ military gun prototype," he lifted up the gun and pointed out the features,  
"thumb detection in the handle; liquid helium cooled, titanium barrel and slide."

"Beautiful,"

Phil let the boss pick up a gun, and pulled the bag of scrolls to himself. He had the bag in his arms when the boss pointed the gun at him, his mob mimicking his actions.

"They're a story behind every name," Roulette smirked and prepped to shoot, but as soon as the hammer released, the gun exploded, stunning everyone in the room, giving Phil the chance to escape.

Phil ran back the way they had dragged him, knowing when to turn and what to jump over and duck under. The mob's screams and bullets grazed past him as they ran behind.

His team picked him up in the main street and drove off while they mob chased them.

As his team fended off the mob, his partner noticed the fan following Coulson had built.

"I don't suggest you stay in California, Agent Coulson."

"I don't plan to. Take me to the airport, yeah?"

He addressed the driver and the agent took a quick detour.

"Got an urgent flight to catch?" Agent Grey inquired.

"China."

"Business, personal, or pleasure?"

"Hopefully, personal pleasure!"

"Aha. Got a date, Agent Coulson?"

"Believe it or not, it'll be our second one."

"You seem quite attached,"

"Impressed, really."

"Well, good luck then, Agent Coulson." Agent Grey said five seconds before Coulson opened the door in the moving car as they reached a terminal.

"Gonna need all I can get," he smirked behind him one last time and jumped out of the car, ready to run off into the sunset.

oOoOoOoO

I need a better way to end this chapter, lol.

Couldn't find any Phil Coulson casual pics, so here's a young Clark Gregg/Phil Coulson, cause obviously, the first half of this book is in the "past"

Jennifer Grey is the irl wife of clark gregg, you know, the girl from dirty dancing! Nobody puts baby in a corner!


	6. Luck

It turned out that Coulson actually did need all the luck the universe could muster for him, because the situation in China wasn't a good one.

"What do you mean it's a failed op?!" Coulson tossed the manila folder across the table, causing the papers to spill.

"It was an ambush. Target was waiting for us. They relocated the Extremis-"

"I don't care about that! Get me May!"

No one moved. The silence was overwhelming in the small room.

"Where the hell is Agent May?" Coulson asked, his worry hidden behind his anger.

"The comms were compromised. Last check in Agent May was finding an escape while taking fire." Someone briefed him.

"Okay," Coulson calmly said. He fixed his tie and took authority.

"Someone get me a satellite feed." Coulson ordered.

The actual lead on the mission stood stubborn, annoyed with Coulson's antics.

"Now, or would you prefer an order from Fury?!"

Agents rushed to make things happen as Coulson walked closer to the screens. The biggest one showed two crossed lines, rotating and zooming to the needed coordinates.

"Can we get a ping on her last known location? And put this grid on the aerial map so we can see what she's thinking."

5 minutes later the grid showed a red flashing dot in a courtyard of the compound, the red dashes behind her, the places she'd been, showed May heading west. Coulson pointed it out.

"'What's over there?" he asked and the screen moved that way.

"Steep cliff. Dead end." The ex-lead said proudly.

"It's a point of escape. There's a sea beyond that. Water gives cover, and if they're thinking like _you_ , only an idiot would jump off a cliff that rough."

"You saying May's an idiot?"

"No, I'm saying that's what _they_ would think. May can jump that cliff. That's where she's going, and that's where I'm heading." Coulson made his point by tapping on the middle of the water.

"It's a suicide mission!"

Coulson ignored the warning.

"Get me some water current readings and possible locations. I'm going to get May back. Stop me or join me; I never leave a man behind."

Half hour later, Coulson was flying in a helicopter with a small team, suited in kevlar and a wet suit. The water was choppy and the winds didn't sustain the helicopters.

"We can't get any readings from this position!" an agent shouted, "And the water's too rough to go lower!"

"Is it portable? The heat signature machine?" Coulson pointed to the device being used to search for May.

"It doesn't have to be plugged in if that's what you're asking! Don't tell me anything!"

"I'm not waiting for approval. Just one more thing: where's the raft!?" Coulson flashed a devilish smile and the other agents thought Coulson had gone crazy. But not two minutes later, a raft blew out of the helicopter with Coulson on it, signature reading machine tied around his waist.

As soon as he hit the water alright, Coulson looked up with a finger tapped on his comm to report back, but he didn't get the chance as the helicopter he'd just been on, got destroyed by a missile. Coulson put an arm up and hunched further into the blow up raft to cover his head from the flames and debris. It turned out the device _did_ run fine on battery, as dead or dying heat flashed on the screen. The remaining S.H.I.E.L.D Helicopters pulled away as enemy vehicles gave chase, and Coulson was too far below to catch the red octopus emblemed on the bottom of the black chinooks.

There wasn't anything he could to do help them, but he could -hopefully- help May. As soon as the helicopters were out of sight, Coulson pulled the rope, starting the tiny engine that guided the raft through the rough waters. Under the light of the torch banded to his head, Coulson analyzed the current readings that could help him find May. He prayed he could find her soon, as his chances were as small as the power left in the engine.

Coulson roamed the waters for all the hour the engine allowed him, then, with little hope remaining, he guided the raft to the rocky shores. It wasn't easy guiding the thing, small as it was, and it wore it him out even more as he dragged the soaking wet plastic out of the water. Coulson crashed on a rock, smoothed overtime by waves, and closed his eyes, tired and hopeless. His eyes flashed open when the device around him beeped, and he looked on it to see a weak signature not too far. It was only one, which could mean Melinda, as it was more probable that the hostiles would tour in pairs. It could mean a survivor from the wreck, or someone thrown over the cliff, but he clung to the thought that it could be May, and crawled towards it.

He gained strength as he became more confident, but still walked closer to the ground to avoid being seen. From where he was, too close to the cliff, the people above couldn't see him, but someone on the water could. With his luck, there were no hostiles. And with his luck, it was Agent May.

It was Agent May, but she was injured; losing blood. Bruises and bullets and broken bones, her pale figure worried him, and her smile was none too assuring.

"Phil," she mouthed as if hallucinating.

"Shh. It's okay. I'm gonna get you out of here!"

May didn't believe it was physically him, but Coulson used all his physical strength to lift Melinda up and onto the raft. He tore his wetsuit into bits wrapping them tight around her bleeding wounds. He pulled the thing from its ropes, even heavier with May's limp weight on it, dragging it back to the waters. He fit himself next to her, then kicked a rock, pushing the raft on to the waters, on the mercy of the currents. Coulson slid himself under May, keeping her up and engaged, and warm. Himself, he was shivering wet, almost giving in to the hypothermia, his eyes drooping as he saw a horde of worried villagers hovering over. His ears were too filled with water for Coulson to hear what they were saying, but at least they didn't have guns, and so he placed his life in their hands and let his system shut down.


	7. The New World

The drums began low after a twinkling intro of tambourines and bird calls. The soothing chimes drowned to the crescendo of the drums that became accompanied by hums and chants. The alarm was snoozed off by a sleep heavy fist, and seconds of silence passed till it was broken by the creaking of the bed. Black slippers came out from under the bed, giving comfort to the feet that shuffled to the kitchen.

The machine grumbled as it woke up, getting ready to prepare a cup of coffee for its master, who abandoned it to give company to the treadmill. The slippers were traded for running shoes, and the treadmill woke up lazily to the white noise coming from the television. Politicians were being grilled on the government's failures, super heroes saved lives while having no regard for collateral damage. Nobody knew who Justin Bieber was dating now, but has Tony Stark hung up the suit for his secretary? His watch beeped 7am and the treadmill hissed to a halt. The gym shoes rested with the slippers and the sweaty feet walked naked to the shower; washed, dried, and clothed in 7 minutes 30 seconds to the dot.

The bedroom was left like no one had been there for days, the closed door holding its secret. The coffee machine snored in its sleep, its creation poured meticulously from pot to mug, not a drop left or spilled. The travel mug got a lid and stood with the briefcase on the square kitchen table; the man used his free hands to swing on one black suit jacket while 4 others exactly like it hung in the closet. The navy rope went around his neck, tying in a single Windsor knot to keep from slipping off. The mug and the case parted company as he carried each in one hand. The strong black coffee was perfect for first day back.

"Let's go save the world," he told his reflection with a preppy smile, but really he longed to be back on holiday.

 _It was a magical place._

"Good moooorning, New York City! It's your hosts Duke Savage and Scooters, waking you up at 9 am. It's 85° with CLEAR, well, probably not clear skies. It's New York!"

"Yup Dukey! I'm gonna call it... clear skies with a chance of [rain pour] Super HEROES! We have a video from the weekend, of Captain Ah-merica running laps round Central Park! Look at that old man go!"

"And _my_ grandfather can't even get off his rocker! Haha, love you pops. And you too, Cap!" Cue the presidential fanfare.

"That's probably not Iron Man today for sure! Mr. Tony Stark's probably sleeping it in after all that partayy-ing last night!" Insert quote from Tony Stark. "Hahaa, we love _you_ Tony! Keep living the dream, _Iron_ man!"

Ba-dum-tuss and boos from the fake audience.

"Speaking of loving Tony Sta-"

The radio shut off mid sentence and the girl groggily woke up from her sleep.

"He's Tony genius philanthropist Stark! Why would you _need_ to find a reason to love him. I mean come _on,_ I'd hack him in a second, if you know what I mean!" A snort laugh was what it took for her to gain her senses.

"Way to go, Poots. You're talking to yourself."

With a yawn, stretch, and a scratch of her head, Poots was off the makeshift bed, stumbling across the floor of her van to the makeshift desk. A newspaper headline came ripped off the wall where hundreds others were pinned, like a theory on a police detective's wall. Or a serial killer's. The page rested next to the computer, which opened from its slumber to reveal a million different programs running at the same time.

She cracked her twined fingers outward, shaking them up to start the day.

"Alright Poots, work time!" She wiggles her fingers over the keyboard, aiming for the letters, but in the next second she snapped the laptop shut and tossed it in her bag, sliding off her chair.

"Nope. Breakfast time!"

 _Jab! Slide! Double punch! Dodge! Uppercut, elbow, over the shoulders, slammed on the other side!_ The dummy had no chance against the better man. He imagined his father's face every time he lashed out. _Who was the dummy now, dad!_ He had come so far from his past, and he'd definitely proven himself. Hell, he was second only to Romanov. The young man started another round, but halfway through, his pager beeped, sending him to work. He got a text on his phone a second later, confirming his mission. He ripped the Velcro apart and tossed the wraps at the water boy by the gym showers.

'Merci'

After a quick shower, he put on a waiter's uniform and grabbed his bike jacket on his way out. It was a good day to ride a bike in Paris, too bad he had work to do. An Agent's work is never done.


	8. SHIELD Team Six

"What does S.H.I.E.L.D. stand for, agent Ward?"

Coulson stood in the corner watching as assistant director Maria Hill grilled the potential recruit for his team. The guy was only second to Black Widow herself. Coulson entertained himself by the fact that the lightbulb in his corner had gone out before agent Ward had come in.

"It means someone really wanted our initials To spell out "SHIELD."

Guy makes jokes! That didn't deserve a poop on his interpersonal skills report. But hey, it's Maria Hill.

"It means we're the line between the world and the much weirder world. We protect people from news they aren't ready to hear. And when we can't do that, we keep them safe. Something turns up like this Chitauri neural link, get to it before someone bad does."

His reply was similar to something Coulson himself had said years before.

"I'm more interested in how this rising tide group found out about it. I thought they were just hackers. What changed?"

"Everything's changing. A little while ago, most people went to bed thinking that the craziest thing in the world was a billionaire in a flying metal suit. Then aliens invaded New York and were beaten back by, among others, a giant green monster, a costumed hero from the '40s, and a god."

Coulson puffed his cheeks, knowing Maria Hill's face had the slightest hint of blush only trained eyes could pick up on. Similar to how his own had been upon the mention of a certain costumed hero from the '40s.

"I don't think Thor's technically a god."

Oops. Potato potaato! Insulting the God of Thunder definitely got you a poop from Maria Hill on your interpersonal skills.

"Well, you haven't been near his arms. The battle of New York was the end of the world. This now is the new world. People are different. They have access to tech, to formulas, secrets they're not ready for."

"Why was I pulled out of Paris? That, you'll have to ask agent Coulson."

"Uh, yeah. I'm clearance level six. I know that Agent Coulson was killed in action before the battle of New York. Got the full report."

Coulson fixed his collar at his intro and stepped into the light.

"Welcome to level seven."

Coulson lead them out to the conference room, telling his death story as they walked. As confidently as he told it, internally the more unsure he felt with himself. Maria was right; it changes every time he told it. His mind was slowly beginning to feel as if it might explode, but then he remembered:

It's a magical place.

"That's a superhero, agent Ward."

"An unregistered gifted."

"Another little present from The Rising Tide."

"How are they getting this stuff before us?"

Boy does this guy have an issue with the Rising Tide.

"Same way they cracked our RSA implementation."

"They're good. So I need better."

Gosh! Doesn't that sound like something the Captain would say?!

"Agent Coulson has requisitioned A mobile command unit, to which you are assigned."

"Rising Tide is trying to draw us out. I think it's time they succeeded."

"You want me to cross them off?"

"Wow. No." Why did sound like if he had this same conversation with someone else, only ONE other person would respond like Ward did.

"I want to want to use them to get to him. This man's world is about to get very weird. He's gonna need some help."

"I'm sorry. I was trained from day one as a specialist. I go in alone. I get it done. Defusing a nuclear bomb I'm your guy. A welcoming committee? Not my speed!" Ward said, even with the same cold posture he could definitely expect seeing from HER.

Yup. This was totally the guy he needed for this team. Course this guy kept reminding him of HER. Ward was so up HER alley. The coldness, the ruthlessness, the 'not your welcoming committee' person. SHE had only welcome committeed one person. That person was Coulson himself.

"I know it's not what you want. Agent Hill did a very detailed assessment of your last three missions. Combat top grades. Espionage she gave you the highest marks since Romanoff.

Under "people skills," she drew a I think it's a little poop with knives sticking out of it."

Maria came to the defense of her drawing.

"What? It... That's bad, right? And given your family history, I'm surprised it's not worse."

Okay, past is a sour spot.

"But I think you're the guy for this. If I'm wrong, you go straight back to your bombs."

Oh yeah, this was great practice to go knocking on her door.

The doctor came in and cleared his roster. Ward was dismissed and Coulson was recommended more rest. But he'd definitely had enough of it. He needed to be in the field. Even though he couldn't trust his own mind. Which was exactly why he needed her on this team, if for nothing else, just to maintain his sanity.

Coulson knew he never imagined to be doing this. Go knocking at her door. After all they had been through. But he couldn't trust his own self right now. His mind and body didn't feel like his own. And there was only one other mind he could trust himself to...

"Agent May!"

Of course she was the only one working long after hours. She wasn't a people person.

"No." She said, emphasizing her reply by stamping the document on her desk.

"So you've been briefed."

"I'm not going back in the field."

Another stamp.

"Yeah. You've got such a nice setup here."

The cubicle suited her well, but he knew her better than that. Better than she knew herself. Better than he knew her.

"You ever thought about adding a moat? I just need you to drive the bus," he just needed her to catch the bait. "Liaise ground transpo, some on-site supervision. This isn't a combat op."

"Then you don't need me."

"I do. 'Cause we'll be running ourselves." Cause I need you. "Picking the ops. Making the calls.

No red tape... This is where they actually make the red tape, isn't it? I always wondered."

She smiled. Only Phil Coulson could get Melinda May to react to a joke. Not counting that guy.

"Melinda..."

"You're really just asking me to drive the bus?"

Of course she listens when he takes her name.

"I'm not asking. But it's a really nice bus."

But not this one!

Coulson and Ward were standing in an alley in front of a rickety old van. Glasses up, suits on, hands clasped. Men in Black 2.0. Ward slid back the door and the girl staring back at him, did something. As if he had known that gave in another life; had memorized it since the first time he had seen that face.

"What up?"

Ward bagged her and the feeling was gone.

Welcome to SHIELD team Six.


End file.
